Alfred Pennyworth (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thebatbutler) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2014-09-29 05:59 am
thebatbutler) wrote in maskormenacelogs2014-09-29 05:59 am
The Past Casts a Long Shadow [Closed]
WHO: Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne, and Richard Grayson [Closed]
WHERE: Residence #028
WHEN: The morning of September 28th
WHAT: Family breakfast
WARNINGS: Batfeels? Angst? Hopefully not over breakfast, guys! There can't be angst where there are puppies.
Although Alfred doesn't expect Bruce or Richard to show up for a family breakfast that's technically more of a brunch until 10 or 11, he's awake and in the kitchen by 8, making sure he has all the necessary ingredients and mixing up various batters. It looks more like he's preparing to feed a small army than a family of three, but he wants to ensure that Richard has plenty to take home, both for himself the rest of the week and for Wallace, even though the other boy had declined the invitation to come. There's also other members of the house that Alfred and Bruce are residing in and it seemed rude not to make enough to offer them some as well.
By the time it's ten o'clock, there are plates of waffles, pancakes, and french toast, a bowl of fresh-cut fruit, eggs, and an egg skillet with potatoes and sausage. The dishes are arranged on the table and counters and covered so they'll stay warm until Bruce and Richard bother to get up and come to breakfast. Actually, Alfred's considering going to rouse Bruce so that he'll at least be conscious when Richard does arrive. Not that Alfred wouldn't enjoy the time spent with the boy, but Bruce's absence would rather defeat the purpose of a family breakfast.
There's a tall pen in one corner of the kitchen, easily within Alfred's eyesight, with two puppies in it, along with food and water dishes and an assortment of dog toys. One's sleeping with her head in the food dish and the other is happily chewing a hole through the face of one of his toys. Stuffing is beginning to spill from the opening and the pup is slowly surrounding himself with discarded fluff. The toy is abandoned, however, when someone else enters the kitchen and the puppy turns his head to stare for a moment before releasing his victim to run over and throw himself at the gate in his excitement.
WHERE: Residence #028
WHEN: The morning of September 28th
WHAT: Family breakfast
WARNINGS: Batfeels? Angst? Hopefully not over breakfast, guys! There can't be angst where there are puppies.
Although Alfred doesn't expect Bruce or Richard to show up for a family breakfast that's technically more of a brunch until 10 or 11, he's awake and in the kitchen by 8, making sure he has all the necessary ingredients and mixing up various batters. It looks more like he's preparing to feed a small army than a family of three, but he wants to ensure that Richard has plenty to take home, both for himself the rest of the week and for Wallace, even though the other boy had declined the invitation to come. There's also other members of the house that Alfred and Bruce are residing in and it seemed rude not to make enough to offer them some as well.
By the time it's ten o'clock, there are plates of waffles, pancakes, and french toast, a bowl of fresh-cut fruit, eggs, and an egg skillet with potatoes and sausage. The dishes are arranged on the table and counters and covered so they'll stay warm until Bruce and Richard bother to get up and come to breakfast. Actually, Alfred's considering going to rouse Bruce so that he'll at least be conscious when Richard does arrive. Not that Alfred wouldn't enjoy the time spent with the boy, but Bruce's absence would rather defeat the purpose of a family breakfast.
There's a tall pen in one corner of the kitchen, easily within Alfred's eyesight, with two puppies in it, along with food and water dishes and an assortment of dog toys. One's sleeping with her head in the food dish and the other is happily chewing a hole through the face of one of his toys. Stuffing is beginning to spill from the opening and the pup is slowly surrounding himself with discarded fluff. The toy is abandoned, however, when someone else enters the kitchen and the puppy turns his head to stare for a moment before releasing his victim to run over and throw himself at the gate in his excitement.
no subject
It was still the same life, he was still the same Bruce Wayne, and yet he had a family now; a family he was struggling to reconcile himself with, a family he was still trying to find his place with, learning at a pace of knots what it meant to mean something to other people again. Alfred, of course, was a godsend in that respect, but it seemed lonely for him sometimes, and that's why Bruce tried especially hard to adjust. He'd stopped eating smoothied raw vegetables for every meal of the day, for one thing, accepting Alfred's gestures of real cooked food if only for the fact that it made him feel like he was somehow properly valuing the old man's continued friendship. They even ate together on occasion, something that would have never have happened at home, given his far more formal relationship with the man. But Bruce had changed, and he was adapting to that, beginning to realise that he liked it.
He liked having a family again; he'd missed it. He wasn't sure how he felt about being the Thomas Wayne of the household - more and more he was beginning to realise what it meant that he'd lost his childhood to regrets and hatred - but he was trying his best to fill that role, to be the kind of father that he'd never had. He was trying, at least.
He'd slept since he'd arrived home at dawn, and now he emerged groggily from the bedroom, not dressed but wrapped up in a fluffy dressing gown poached from Alfred's hotel. His hair was getting a little long, and right now it was skewiff, ruffled from deep sleep, some dark stubble gracing his jaw. He looked like a real person--though for how long that would last who could know? But he stopped to greet the puppies, crouching beside the pen and folding his arms across the top of it, sighing as he ducked his face in and let the excited animal lick at his face.
"Alright, alright. I get it, you love me. Down boy."
He straightened back up, ran his hand through his hair, and made a bee-line for the sink.
"Is Dick here yet?"
no subject
In any case, he let himself in, smiling as he headed straight for the kitchen. Ah, the familiar smell of Alfred's home-cooking. Way better than anything he'd been able to manage for himself — not that he would ever complain about cereal, of course. He was just... pretty sure it wasn't a balanced breakfast.
"Gooood morning," he singsonged as he peeked around the entrance to the kitchen... and, sorry Bruce, sorry Alfred — his attention was immediately drawn to the puppies. "Whoa," Dick blurted out, heading over to the pen and crouching down to let them sniff at his hand. "Who're the new kids?"
no subject
At the knock, Alfred inclines his head ever so slightly towards the front door in answer to Bruce's question. "It would seem that he is."
"Good morning, Master Richard." He raises his voice enough to be heard from the kitchen, presuming that the boy would have let himself in... Only to glance over and see that Richard is preoccupied with the puppies. Alfred glances over at Bruce to gauge his reaction before addressing Richard's question.
"She," he nods to the puppy now lifting her head from the bowl of food and yawning before scrambling to her feet and joining her brother in enthusiastically licking Richard's hands. "Is Sir Dillingsworth. He doesn't have a name yet, but you may do the honors if you wish."
Alfred turns from the food to fully face Richard and the puppies. "Food first, perhaps? Before you play with them?"
no subject
Hair, of course. As Richard is distracted by puppies, Bruce kneads his hair back into something resembling human before scooting around the teenager and stepping on into the kitchen. There really was a great deal available, huge piles of pancakes and all kinds of cereals and toast; more of a hotel breakfast than anything suited to just the three of them, no matter how active they were all in their own way.
But such was a constant balancing act in this household. Bruce wasn't used to eating this well; he hadn't since he was Richard's age himself. His seven years tasting the full strength of poverty had leant him too much of a perspective on food to find the sight of so much of it anything but overly lavish--even if it was just toast and waffles.
He'd discovered though that it was a compromise he had to make where Alfred was involved. Compromising on food was easier than compromising on other things, and it gave him an angle.
"Alfred tried to convince me that they wouldn't be any trouble, but until they get a little larger the jury is still out." And that was all he had to say on the subject: it was Alfred's idea. "You've outdone yourself here, Alfred."